


The Tinder Box

by braindelete



Category: Avengers, Iron Man (Comic), Marvel 616
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Falling In Love, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 03:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braindelete/pseuds/braindelete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Cap_Ironman fairy tale challenge.<br/>A/N: Hans Christian Anderson's The Tinder Box and the Scandinavian folk tale The Spirit in the Candle are essentially the same tale but with a minor difference. I took an element from the Spirit version and combined it with the Tinder Box version.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tinder Box

In a lonely wood a soldier traveled home from battle. He was weary from his journey and the battle he’d fought. He longed to return home. As he walked through with his star-spangled shield over his shoulder, he came across a woman in red, who looked rather distraught. The soldier instinctively stopped to help her.

“Dear woman, what has you in such a state?” He asked.

“My cart has broken its wheel. I have another but I am too weak to remove the one old one and apply the new.” She sobbed.

The soldier gave her a smile. “I will help you, take me to your cart.”

And so the woman in red robes took him to her cart with the broken wheel. He found the spare wheel and lifted it high above his head. He used her crude tools to replace the broken one with the fresh untarnished replacement. When he was finished, he stood and clapped the dust from his hands.

“Your wheel is repaired.” He said, looking pleased.

The woman gave him a smile. “For your kindness sir, I will repay you with a gift.”

With that she pulled a small wooden tinderbox from the back of her cart and placed it in the soldier’s hands. He looked at her, and then explored the box. He slipped his hands over it, running them along the smooth surface. As he moved his fingers to slide it open, the woman placed her hands on his to stop him.

“Steven, be careful when you open this, as it is no ordinary tinderbox.” She told him.

The soldier was stunned. “How did you know my name?”

“I am a witch. And for your kindness today I’ve rewarded you with a magical tinderbox. When you open it, it will summon for you an iron man. He will be your protector and your servant as long as you live.”

Steven looked back at the box. When he looked up to thank the witch, she was gone, cart and all. He held the box closely and continued on the road home.

 

******

When the soldier finally approached a small town it was nearing nightfall. He found the town’s Inn that had a single room open. After taking the room, he found himself instantly relaxing onto the comfortable bed. The room wasn’t much but it was a place to stay for the night, and rest his tired body before continuing on. As he looked out the window he noticed the tall tower in the middle of the square. The tower had a single window with the light of a candle flickering in the window.

Steven left his room after a brief rest and arrived at a small tavern for some food. He kept his eyes on the tower. A young woman with long red hair was sitting beside him and noticed his gaze. She smiled softly and motioned her head toward the window of the tavern.

“The prince is in that tower.” She said.

“The prince?” Steve questioned.

She nodded. “The prince is locked in the tower. There is a prophecy that he will fall in love with a common soldier and they will be wed. King Howard of course disapproves of this, and so he locked the prince up in the tower.”

Steven’s brows furrowed at her story. That seemed cruel to him. Of course, there was no ignoring that he was a common soldier, having found his way to this town. He looked at the tower again. The candlelight still flickered there at the top. She touched his shoulder.

“I would give anything to see the prince released from that prison.” She told him.

“Do you know this prince?” He asked, looking back to her.

“I am his personal serving maid.” She smiled. “He was so full of life once. He’s so brilliant. He makes things of iron and gears. But he hasn’t had the will to do anything since his father locked him way.”

The soldier returned his gaze to the tower in the center of the square. He knew what he had to do. And perhaps he was the soldier from the prophecy.

******

The town was dark and empty in the middle of the night. Even the candle from the tower window was extinguished. He had a cunning plan to rescue the prince from his tower prison, if only to see his face one time. He watched the tower closely from the small alley road beside the Inn. Clutching the tinderbox close to him, he took a deep breath.

He slowly opened the box and with a whirlwind of magic, out came a tall and bulky iron man. From what Steve could tell this was no ordinary suit of armor. It stood taller than he, a collection of iron and steel combined together with gears and cogs. He had big bulky arms and big bulky legs. The hands and fingers were slender, and the helmet seemed nothing more than an upside-down bucket of iron with dark narrow slits for eyes, and a narrow slit for a mouth.

Steven stammered a bit, surprised by the creature in front of him. He wasn’t afraid, but he was intrigued. “Go to the tower and bring the sleeping prince to my room at the Inn.”

The iron man made no sound or acknowledgement, before turning around and walking toward the tower. Steven watched for a moment before returning to his room. He sat on the bed to wait. The wait only lasted a few short moments. The iron man came through the door with the sleeping form of a man in his arms. He gently put down the prince onto the bed before turning to Steven as if to wait for more instruction. Steven had none, so the iron man disappeared to it’s tiny home in the tinderbox.

Steven was awestruck when he saw the prince. He stood over the bed, taking him in, every tiny little ounce. His hair was dark and glistening in the candlelight of the room. His face was defined and narrow, a neatly maintained beard graced his jaw. He was slender but masculine. The soldier found himself intoxicated with the very presence of the prince.

The prince stirred, waking with a start. His eyes jetted around the room, taking it in with an apparent shock. Steven noticed and sat beside him, catching a glimpse of the most beautiful blue he’d ever seen. His breath caught.

“Where am I? Who are you?” The prince asked.

“My name is Steven. I am a soldier and I have rescued you from your tower.” He replied.

The prince looked at him. A small smirk displayed itself on the man’s face. He knew the prophecy well. Not even his father’s cruelty could stop his destiny to be with this man. And as soldiers went, common or no, fate had handed him a very attractive specimen.

“So you are the one that the prophecy foretold of?” He smiled. “I suppose then, a thank you is in order.”

The prince then leaned into Steven, placing his soft lips on the soldier’s own. Steven closed his eyes, feeling intense warmth as he pressed his lips against the prince’s. He pushed back the prince so that he lay on the bed, and in turn the prince reached his arms up around the soldier.

“What is your name?” The soldier asked.

“Anthony.” The prince replied.

They made love through the night. Anthony found himself eased and comforted by the soldier’s strength, and he nestled into Steven’s embrace. But just before dawn, Steven summoned the iron man again, and he and Anthony kissed good-bye. The iron man returned him to the tower.

******

Night after night the iron man would bring the prince to Steven’s Inn. And night after night the solider and the prince would spend the darkest hours making love and laughing in each other’s arms. Steven would tell him heroic battle tales and how he loved to draw. Anthony would tell him the pressures of being royalty and how he loved to forge machines of metal. And slowly, the two men fell deeply in love.

The prince was also a warrior. He told of a battle that was fought for his kingdom. His father the king was too old to fight with their knights, so Anthony gladly went in his place. In the battle he was injured when a musket bullet entered his chest. The prince was very ill and brought back to the castle where the best doctors in the country told him he would not survive. But Anthony was a clever prince and so with the help of an alchemist he built a tiny machine of iron and gears to help his injured heart continue beating.

The soldier was impressed by his lover’s story, and ran his fingers gently over the metal plate over Anthony’s chest where is heart resided. Anthony took the soldier’s hands and smiled, leaning in and giving him a gentle kiss.

“I love you, Steven.” He said. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“I love you, Anthony.” He replied. “It was my pleasure.”

Before anything else could progress in their closeness, the door to the room burst open. On the other side, stood the angry king and two of his guards. It was clear Anthony was defiant, and not frightened. He stood, clenching his fists and met the king eye to eye. The two guards approached Steven and took him in shackles. Steven knew better than to fight and cause either of them further problems. He just regarded Anthony sadly.

“You cannot stop this, the prophecy says that I will marry a soldier and despite your cruel attempt to stop me, he has found me.” Anthony barked.

The king laughed. “You will return to your tower Anthony. As for your soldier, in the morning he will face death at the guillotine.”

Anthony stopped and fear etched on his features. “No, you can’t! Please! I love him!”

The guards took Steven away, despite Anthony’s protests. A third guard, Sir James, a friend of Anthony’s who had fought beside him in battle, came through the door and shackled the prince’s hands. Anthony looked at him, betrayed.

“You too, James?” He said, bitterly.

“I’m sorry Anthony.” James replied.

The King followed the guards to the prison with the solider and Anthony was taken to the tower. But before they left the Inn, James swiped the magical tinderbox.

******

The willful prince was broken. When he returned the tower prison, he flopped down onto the bed and stayed there. He didn’t speak. He didn’t take food. And he only drank from a bottle of wine. He was awake all night, miserable for the rise of the morning. He couldn’t lose his soldier. He couldn’t be the cause of his soldier’s beheading. He loved this man. But there was nothing he could do.

As dawn approached the soldier was prepared for his walk to the guillotine. Anthony couldn’t watch what they planned to do with his love. So he stayed in his bed with a bottle of wine. But just before the sun peaked over the countryside, Sir James came to the tower with the tinderbox.

“Anthony, I brought you the soldier’s tinderbox. I took it from the Inn before I brought you back. It is how he was rescuing you at night, I saw him once in the alley. The iron man that brought you to him, is in this box.” Sir James explained.

“So you plan to help me?” Anthony asked.

“I always did. That’s why I insisted it was I who bring you back here. But you must hurry. They’re bringing him to his death as we speak.”

Anthony didn’t hesitate. He took the box and opened it.

*******

The soldier stood proudly with his hands shackled behind him. His eyes remained on the tower. His thoughts not on his death but on the beautiful prince he was leaving behind. Anthony was strong willed and would hopefully manage without him. Steven was glad he’d known the love of a good man before meeting his demise.

He lowered to his knees as the executioner pushed him down. After he was on his knees, the executioner lowered him to lying on his belly, his neck fitting into the little slot perfectly. Steven knew he would be strong through this. He just hoped Anthony wasn’t watching. Or forced to watch.

He took a breath but heard a commotion. Something was happening. People were screaming. He couldn’t sit up to see what was going on, as they had already begun to strap him down. The executioner yelped in fear and he heard the sound of clanking iron. It was his iron man from the tinderbox. Before he could register any other information, he was lifted into the air by the strong arms, and he saw the world, rushing and running from the giant creature. Steven could only smile.

The iron man brought the soldier to the wood away from the town. He stopped at a clearing where the guard sir James, and the redheaded woman from the tavern stood, with a horse and carriage waiting. Steven smiled.

“You’ve saved my life. I will owe you a debt.” He said as the iron man set him down.

“You owe us nothing but your promise to make the prince happy for your life and his.” The redheaded woman replied.

“You have my word.” Steven smiled. “But where is Anthony. Do we have to save him from the tower?”

Sir James and the redheaded woman both smiled and gave a shake of their heads. Behind him, the iron man removed his helmet. Steven turned to see that inside the suit was Anthony, grinning widely at him.

“I built this iron suit but my father had a witch banish it as an abomination.” He replied. “Thank you for bringing it back to me.”

Anthony climbed out of the iron suit. Steven embraced him closely, but that wasn’t enough for the prince. He leaned in and kissed Steven, but this kiss was like no other. It was joyful, longing, hungry. It was a kiss of a man very deeply in love. Steven pulled back and stroked Anthony’s cheek.

“Shall we go and live our life together?” Steven asked.

Anthony smiled. “Only if Lady Virginia and Sir James may come.”

Steven nodded. “Of course.”

Anthony smiled and led Steven into the carriage. Once inside he wrapped his arms around his neck again, leaning in for yet another kiss. Steven deepened it this time, leaning him against the back wall of the carriage. They could finally be together without fear or time limit. They had their whole lives, both day and night. He pulled back and placed two more gentle kisses, one on Anthony’s nose, and one on his forehead.

“Prince Anthony, will you marry me?”

“I will, Sir Steven. I will.”

Fin


End file.
